


It Won't Be Long

by freckledandspectacled



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Kissing, M/M, Marking, Missing Scene, Neck Kissing, Rough Kissing, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-01 23:43:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14531964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckledandspectacled/pseuds/freckledandspectacled
Summary: Don't mind me, I'm just forcibly inserting some sorely lacking nygmobblepot into 4x20.





	It Won't Be Long

**Author's Note:**

> A 4x20 fix-it, I suppose. Nothing can stop me.

Oswald has always had his sights on the future, gifted with an almost prophetic ability of foresight. He turns accidents into opportunities and dilemmas into miracles. It’s nothing to do with luck, and nowhere near mystic. It’s simply that he’s learned a great deal living in Gotham for over thirty years. Every new player is just like the old ones. Fallible. When an opportunity lays itself into his lap like this, it’s like a siren song. So, as much as he would love to sit around watching these _idiotic_ cartoons (which manage to remind him of _Edward_ somehow), he needs to do a little good old-fashioned _snooping_ for an advantage.

Butch tags along, because of course he does, and Oswald finds that he doesn’t mind the extra muscle. He may need it. Upon arriving at the GCPD, it doesn’t exactly take a genius to figure out their strategy. They’ve sacrificed the interior to keep Jerome’s followers inside and are likely preparing some means of disabling them within the confines of it. But if they’d done that, they must have also evacuated their prisoners. Prisoners, and VIPs. Anyone worth talking to is probably being held in a transport vehicle, and it doesn’t take Oswald long to locate—

Shit.

Edward is throwing open a transport van and surveying the inside. Evidently, he doesn’t find what he’s looking for. He closes the doors and struts off, and it’s a miracle not a _single_ officer has noticed him skipping around like he is. He makes Oswald _furious_. The sheer recklessness is completely unacceptable.

“Butch,” he says, stopping short. If anyone is a real danger to Edward, it’s his pale companion.

“What?” Butch says, turning his attention to Oswald. Oswald peers at Edward’s trajectory over his shoulder, noting where he’s headed. In a moment, he’s out of sight and safe from any retribution from Butch.

“Inside of that van,” Oswald says, pointing, “You will no doubt find at least one of Jerome’s followers. Take him back to the manor. Make him squeal. I’m going to stick around and see what else I can find to help us.”

“Fine, but I’m gonna make ‘em piss themselves in _your_ chair,” Butch says, brushing past him.

“Real mature!” Oswald calls after him, sneering. He immediately hurries to the last place he’d seen Edward go, disappearing into a side street. He finds two people with the distinct flavor of Narrow’s trash fashion he’s come to recognize loitering outside of a… a magic shop? Oh, Edward. He steps up to the entrance, finding himself halted as a young woman steps in front of him.

“It’s closed,” she says. She’s not wrong, either. Edward had broken the glass of the front door and let himself in. It’s entirely lacking his typical finesse. He must be in a hurry.

“I need to speak with the Riddler,” Oswald enunciates, lip curling distastefully. Her eyes narrow at his condescending tone.

“Oswald?” Edward calls, peering out through the broken door. “What are you standing around for? Get in here.” Oswald pushes past the girl, feeling only a bit silly as he turns the doorknob and lets himself inside.

“So, what brings you to this little debacle?” Oswald asks. “Feeling neglected by the boys in blue?”

“I’m rescuing Lee,” Edward says, “She’s still inside the GCPD with those lunatics.”

“Ah,” Oswald says, resting both hands on his cane and looking down. “And you’re not going to leave her in there because…?”

“Because she’s still my friend, even if we can’t risk looping her in just yet,” Edward explains.

“And the other reason for this rescue that you _haven’t_ told me?” Edward glares at him. “I can always tell when you have more to say, Edward.”

“How?” Edward grits out, thumbing through a rack of costumes.

“Because you always have more to say. Thanks for the confirmation, though.” Edward sighs.

“Fine. I was worried she’d give me up to Gordon and give the GCPD probable cause to storm Cherry’s, resulting in the destruction of all our plans. Happy?”

“Very,” Oswald beams, stepping closer. “Perhaps the maid uniform?”

“I’ll pass,” Edward says, though his fingers linger on the tulle skirt. “I need to actually blend in with those maniacs.” Oswald hums and surveys the selection.

“How about this?” Edward asks. Oswald turns, snorting as the red clown nose comes into view.

“Absolutely not,” Oswald says, plucking the abomination from his face. “Red is _not_ your colour.”

“I look good in anything,” Edward counters, turning back to the costume rack. “Even a clown suit.”

“Jerome forced me into one while I was in Arkham,” Oswald casually shares, keeping his tone steady. “But I’m still not sure you could wear it better.” Edward eyes him up and down, slowly.

“I could get into that,” he drawls, winking at him. Oswald rolls his eyes. “Besides, that sounds like a challenge. Oh! How about this wig?”

“What about it? Would you like to know whether or not it could be set on fire? Because that’s the _only_ thing I want to see you doing with it,” Oswald says, snatching it from Edward’s grip and chucking it across the shop. Edward huffs and crosses his arms.

“Oswald,” he says, cranking the doe eyes up to maximum. “This _is_ time sensitive…”

“And when’s the next time I can expect to see you, _hmm_?” Oswald asks, leaning his cane against a counter and leaning himself into Edward’s personal space. “Or do I have to keep following you on these crazed attempts to save Lee from herself?”

“She doesn’t need saving,” Edward is quick to point out. “She’s just… _off_ , right now. Judgement wise.”

“Off,” Oswald echoes. “And your manipulations—”

“Are not manipulations I’m _proud_ of,” Edward carefully beings, “But they _are_ necessary. She’d never listen to me if she thought I was still working with you.”

“And letting her kiss you is just part of that, right?” Oswald hisses, fingers moving to grip tightly at Edward’s hips. He whimpers at the sudden pressure, and the sound brings a smile to Oswald’s lips.

“Lee is under the impression that seduction is the way to keep me wrapped around her finger,” Edward explains. “It’s not hard to play the part, seeing as she’s only kissed me, but if she didn’t have that leverage she’d have nothing over me. And if for some reason Lee began to think that seducing me was no longer working, she would become suspicious and stop trusting me to be loyal to her. I’m sorry, Oswald. This is just how it has to be for now.”

“Why is it that _I_ feel like the other man?” Oswald grumbles, pulling Edward into an embrace. Edward hooks his chin over Oswald’s shoulder and sighs, arms wrapped tight around him. He closes his eyes, nuzzling his face into Oswald’s hair as Oswald’s hands stroke over his back.

“It won’t be long,” Edward whispers, relaxing into his grip.

“I’m not very patient,” Oswald huffs, kissing Edward’s shoulder, the side of his neck.

“No marks above the collar,” Edward recites on autopilot, tensing in Oswald’s arms. Oswald bares his teeth at the absurdity of not even being able to do _this—_ and then at once he relaxes. “Oswald, I’m sorry—”

“No,” he says, holding a hand up, “I understand. Can’t have her thinking you’re disloyal now, can we?” Edward nods, bringing a hand up to cup Oswald’s jaw. He presses his lips to Oswald’s, wrapping his other arm around Oswald’s shoulders. Oswald pulls him closer by the waist, humming contentedly as Edward tilts his head and deepens the kiss, lips parting in a tantalizing invitation for Oswald. He accepts, pressing Edward back until he’s half-seated on a counter, clutching at Oswald’s back to pull him closer.

“Unbutton your shirt,” Oswald demands, kissing across Edward’s jaw for a reprieve.

“Why?” Edward asks, panting lightly from Oswald’s ministrations.

“I promise you’ll enjoy it,” Oswald answers, tracing the shell of Edward’s ear with his tongue. Edward rips his tie free in seconds, letting go of Oswald in order to put both hands to the task of unbuttoning his shirt. He’s three buttons in when Oswald yanks the collar of his shirt to the side impatiently. He wastes no time, teeth biting down hard on Edward’s clavicle as he sucks a vicious bruise into the skin there.

“ _Oh_ ,” Edward gasps, a hand jumping up to card through the short hair at the back of Oswald’s head. They flutter there nervously, as if unsure whether to pull him away or press him harder into the mark he’s making. Satisfied, Oswald laps gently at his mark, soothing over it with his tongue. He blows cool air onto Edward’s skin, smirking when he gets a full-body shiver in response.

“Do you want more?” Oswald asks, nosing at the underside of Edward’s jaw and laying butterfly kisses across his pale throat.

“I’d _love_ more,” Edward says, catching his lips again and kissing him softly. “But I’m still _kind of_ on a mission here, and you’ve already done enough damage.”

“I haven’t done _any_ damage,” Oswald protests. Edward looks down meaningfully and receives yet another eye roll in response.

“It’s simple, just don’t let her get your clothes off,” Oswald grouses, beginning to button Edward’s shirt for him. Edward’s eyes light up in response.

“So _that’s_ what this is about,” Edward says, snapping his fingers, “You wanted to make sure I couldn’t let Lee see me shirtless, because then she’d see the hickey and I’d be given away.” Oswald remains stubbornly silent, but he does tug at Edward’s collar a little harder than strictly necessary to button it. Edward’s hands cover his.

“Look at me, Oswald,” Edward murmurs. When Edward meets his eyes, Oswald sees his own feelings reflected back at him. There simply isn’t anything like it. To adore and be adored in turn. “You don’t have to worry about anything like that. I won’t let things get that far. I promise.” Oswald sighs, turning his palms over to hold Edward’s hands. He brings them to his lips and kisses the backs of each in turn.

“I trust you,” Oswald says, thumbs brushing over Edward’s knuckles. “It’s _her_ I don’t trust.” Edward chuckles.

“I doubt she’d push things that far. Even now she only kisses me when she thinks my attention is straying.” Oswald frowns. “What?”

“Pay more attention to her then, I don’t want her kissing you at all,” Oswald says, his face clearly betraying his every emotion. Hate, anger, fear… _love_. Edward admires how well he’s handling this, given that their relationship is so new. It’s just another sign of how much Oswald has matured.

“Just trust me a little longer,” Edward bargains, kissing the corner of Oswald’s mouth and drawing away. Oswald pulls him back in for a proper kiss just as quickly, only this time it’s possessive and sloppy, Oswald clearly doing his damnedest to claim every corner of Edward’s mouth and erase every trace of Lee from within. Edward whines when he pulls away, chasing after him.

“I love you,” Oswald says, even as Edward’s eyes are still shut, utterly dazed from the intensity of the kiss.

“I love you too,” Edward whispers, kissing him chastely one last time before he goes. And with that, he claps his hands together, doing his best to bring his focus back to the task at hand. “Now, where did that wig land?”

**Author's Note:**

> Better? Comment if you thought so. I'm just doing my part to keep up with Gotham's mess.


End file.
